Man's Best Friend
by Mummyluvr
Summary: With no idea where his father is, Dean must turn to Sam for help when he finds himself in a spot of trouble. Problem is, Sam's not sure he wants his brother around. Fortunately, Sammy's new friend is more than receptive to the idea of keeping the stray.
1. Chapter 1

I actually got the idea for this one while writing another story, and it wouldn't elave me alone, so here it is.

**Title:** Man's Best Friend

**Summary:** With no idea where his father is, Dean must turn to Sam for help when he finds himself in a spot of trouble. Problem is, Sam's not sure he wants his brother around. Fortunately, Sammy's new friend is more than receptive to the idea of keeping the sad-looking stray.

**A/N:** This story is a short (4 chapter) pre-series AU set while Sam is at Stanford.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or its characters. They belong to Kripke, and he rocks.

* * *

Man's Best Friend

**June 25, 2005**

He wasn't really sure what he'd expected to find at his brother's California apartment, but it certainly hadn't been this. She was pretty and blonde and tall and smiling and clinging tightly to his little brother's arm. Something just didn't add up. How did Geekboy get _that_? It was against all the laws of nature, against everything Dean had learned in high school.

He couldn't help but stare as they started walking away, not even noticing him as he sat on the opposite side of the street. They looked so happy, so safe, so normal. If he'd had a choice, Dean would have turned around and walked away, would have let them be, would have let Sam get what he wanted.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. He had a tail. And four paws. And a cold wet nose. And fur.

So, yeah, leaving was totally out of the question, especially since he'd practically crossed the country to get to his brother for help.

Trying his hardest to look innocent, even though he was a particularly imposing German Shepherd at the moment, Dean trotted across the street towards the couple, unable to stop his tail from going nuts as he approached the brother he'd thought he would never see again.

Sam stopped in his tracks as soon as the large dog came into his field of vision and blocked his path on the sidewalk. The older hunter could smell uncertainty coming off him and had to marvel at his new 'doggy senses.' There was definitely an upside to the curse.

The blonde girl with his brother knelt down on the sidewalk and held out a hand toward him, smiling radiantly as he plodded forward. He could sense Sam stiffen as he reached the girl, his head down, tail still wagging.

"Jess," Sam hissed urgently. So, that was her name. "Don't. It could be dangerous."

"You worry too much, Sam," Jess replied, scratching Dean's head as soon as he was close enough to reach. Oh, yeah, the situation _definitely _had its perks. "Look. He's sweet."

"He's big," Sam said, stating the obvious and apparently forgetting for the moment that he was over six feet tall.

"He doesn't have a collar," Jess said, ignoring Sam as her hands searched the thick fur around Dean's neck, "just this." She pulled his necklace away from his body, showing it to the hunter, whose eyes went wide.

"Dean?" Sammy whispered, finally kneeling down in front of the dog and looking him in the eyes. Dean stared back, wishing, not for the first time in his life, that he was psychic so that Sam would know exactly what he was thinking. He wasn't sure, but had a pretty good idea that nodding in front of the pretty blonde was a bad idea.

"What?"

"Um, Dean," Sam said hastily, catching his mistake a bit too late and fumbling for a good cover story, "my brother. He has a necklace just like that. Never takes it off."

"That's what we'll call him, then," Jess announced happily, letting the necklace fall back into its designated space and going back to petting the dog.

"No."

Dean blinked up at his little brother. He knew. He had to know. The necklace was a dead give-away. Besides, they'd faced weirder situations in their lives than getting magically transformed into a different species. Then again, Sam had left weird behind and opted for normal. But this was kind of important. He had to have realized _that _much, at least.

Whimpering, Dean ducked his head, tail sliding in between his legs, trying to look crushed. Sam didn't seem too moved by the display, but his friend did.

"Why not?" Jess asked, wrapping her arms around Dean and looking up at Sam with large, expressive eyes, actually turning his own patented puppy-dog look against him.

"Because if you name him, it means you want to keep him. And we can't keep him."

"We can put up posters, though. He's clean and friendly. Someone must be missing him, Sammy. We'll give him a home until someone claims him. Please?"

"No."

Dean couldn't believe his ears. Even as a dog, his brother wanted nothing to do with him. Whimpering again, he squirmed out of Jess's grip and headed slowly off down the sidewalk, tail laying limp behind him as he went.

His plan had failed. He hadn't been able to get Sam to help him. He had nowhere else to go, no one else who could possibly know the truth. He had no idea where his father was. Sam was the only one in the family who'd actually put down roots.

Maybe he could find a nice family somewhere, people who would want him. Sure, he'd have to live out the rest of his days as a family pet, but it was better than being a stray in an alley. At least with a family he'd get food and shelter.

"Look what you did," he heard Jess whine behind him, "Dean, wait!" He stopped in his tracks and turned slightly. He was starting to like this girl. "See, he already knows his name. Sammy, _please_?"

Sam sighed, staring down at Dean like he was something disgusting that had accidentally been stepped in. "Fine. We can keep him. But only until we find the owner."

Jess made a weird squealing noise that Dean was sure only he could hear and crossed the small space he'd put between himself and the couple in record time. "Did you hear that, boy?" she asked, obviously excited.

Dean perked up instantly, finding her happiness to be contagious. Hell, even Sam was smiling. "You weren't lying when you said you'd always wanted a dog, huh?" Sammy said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "My girlfriend," he explained to Dean, his smile widening.

Dean barked once, hoping that Sam got the message. He wasn't stupid. He'd figured it out. He looked over at Jess, who apparently didn't see anything wrong with Sam talking to a dog like it was his best friend (or older brother).

"Come on, boy," the blonde said, heading off in the opposite direction that she and Sam had originally been going.

"Wait," Sam said as she started heading down the street, Dean at her heels, "weren't we gonna-?"

"We have to get supplies," she grinned, "look at what a good boy he is. It's like he understands me. Someone must be missing him."

"Supplies?" Sam asked, easily catching up to them.

"Food, a bed, a leash and collar, maybe some toys-"

"We're not keeping him, Jess."

"Don't you want him to be comfortable?" she asked, flashing that sad puppy face at him again.

"Yeah, I guess so." He looked down at the dog. "You'd better appreciate this."

o0o0o0o0o0o

It had been almost a full week since Dean had shown up outside his brother's apartment building. In that time, Sam had promised him that they would 'talk,' which probably meant that he would talk and Dean would listen. The only problem was that they had to have their 'conversation' when Jess wasn't around. Add to that complication the fact that Sam had classes to attend and work to do, and Dean actually started to think that he would be covered in fur for the rest of his life.

Fortunately, Sam finally got a break from his classes, and Jess went out for a girl's night with her friends. Sitting down cross-legged on the floor and staring at his brother, Sam sighed. Dean cocked his head to one side and sat up, not really feeling like moving off the bed Jess had insisted that Sam buy for him. It may not have had sheets or pillows, but _damn_ was it comfy.

"Witch?" Sammy asked. Dean nodded. "Let me guess. You have no idea where dad is?" Another nod. "And that's why you came to find me?" Affirmative. "You want me to find a way to change you back?"

It was the question he'd been dreading for a week, one that he'd never thought would bring him this much trouble. If Sam hadn't taken his sweet time in actually sitting down and talking to his brother, maybe it wouldn't have been a problem. Actually, it would have been just great. Dean would have nodded and Sam would have researched and they would have been going off their separate ways again before the end of the month.

But Sam had waited. He'd let Dean into his home for a week, had taken him shopping and bought him something. Even though they were gifts for a dog, they were the first things Sam had given him in nearly seven years.

He'd actually had a home for a week, a _real_ home. The same roof over his head every night when he went to sleep, food in his belly when he needed it. No more hustling pool for money. No more worrying about money. Sam had it covered.

He'd spent the week curling up on the couch with the happy couple, basking in attention and love and praise. He knew it was stupid, but it seemed like he'd been waiting his whole life for someone to call him a 'good boy.' He'd spent the week being loved and wanted and part of something bigger than himself and hunting. He knew he wasn't really welcome, but he had a family.

And he'd missed Sam so much since the younger man had left, missed him more than he'd thought. In the time that it had taken Sam to talk to him, Dean had realized something. He wanted his brother back, wanted at least part of his family around full-time. He'd never been able to chase that want, though, never been able to tell Sam. More than he wanted a family for himself, he wanted normal for his brother. It was what Sam wanted, and far be it for Dean to stop him from getting it.

He'd let Sam leave because it was what Sam wanted, had let Sam stop calling because it was what Sam wanted, had let Sam be normal, even though he wished every night for his little brother to come to his senses and return. Maybe now he didn't have to.

While Dean had never once in his life been accused of being normal- in fact, it was usually the opposite- he was normal now. Dogs were normal. More normal than older brothers who hunted demons. It was perfect. He could have everything he wanted and not put Sam out. Besides, now that his senses had been heightened, it was easier to spot the subtle signs that something was wrong. He could protect his little brother. Now all he had to do was break it to the younger man.

"Well?" Sam asked, tearing his brother from his thoughts, "you want to change back, or you want to pee on a hydrant for the rest of your life?"

Dean stared at him, whining a little. Sam stared back. "You want me to find a way to fix this?" he asked again, obviously getting annoyed. Slowly, Dean shook his head. Sam's jaw dropped. "Run that by me again?" The dog shook his head. "No."

Whining again, Dean stood up and moved past his brother to a kitchen counter. He put two large paws up on it and carefully nosed a picture of Sam and Jess toward the edge until he could wrap his teeth gently around it. He dropped it off in his brother's lap and sat back down on his bed.

"What's this supposed to mean?" Sam asked, his voice annoyed, eyes questioning and concerned. Sighing to himself, Dean nudged at the photo with his nose. "Yeah, I get it. It's a picture of me and my girlfriend. So what?"

Gulping back his fear, Dean gazed at his brother, looking him the eyes and hoping against hope that Sammy could pick up the hint. Judging by the size of his eyes, he did. "No, uh-uh. You are _not_ staying with us after I change you back."

Huffing, Dean shook his head.

"What do you mean? This isn't something for you to decided, Dean. It's my life, and…" he trailed off as realization once again hit him. "That's not what you're talking about, is it?" Dean shook his head again. "You want to stay… like _this_?" A nod. "Dude, no way."

Dean cocked his head to one side, waiting for an explanation. "Because you can't live the rest of your life as a dog, Dean. And especially not here." A whimper. "No, it's out of the question."

Whining again, Dean laid back down on his bed and gazed up at his brother with soulful eyes. "You can't like this. You can't like having to wait until someone can take you out to go to the bathroom. To have to wait to be fed. To be expected to play with squeaky toys and chew on bones. You're not allowed on our bed. You can't even _talk_."

The dog tried to shrug, but it came off looking like a failed attempt to get to his feet. "No, Dean," Sam said, but his voice lacked conviction, "you can't…"

How was he supposed to let his brother know that it was his choice, that he'd actually grown fond of it, of Sam and Jess and their little apartment, of everything that it meant to be there.

"You're serious?" Sam asked, his voice soft. Dean nodded. Sighing, Sam slumped his shoulders. "You know how messed up this is?" Another nod. "You can't… you can't act like yourself, Dean, not around Jess. I never told her. I don't want to. You gotta play the part." Dean nodded, unable to keep what felt like a smile off his face.

"So nothing like you pulled in that game of Frisbee on Friday, ok?" Sam added, more sure of himself as he caught the happiness that radiated from his older sibling, "no more catching it and then tossing it back." Still grinning, Dean nodded. "And stop nodding like that."

Obeying his brother, Dean rolled over, exposing his belly. "You gotta be kidding me, man." One look in his brother's eyes told him that it wasn't a joke. Marveling at how weird his life was, even though he'd run away from home, Sam obliged and rubbed his brother's stomach.

* * *

So, that's the first chapter. Any thoughts, complaints, or reviews? I live for feedback! 


	2. Chapter 2

Wow. I honestly didn't think so many people would be into this story, but I'm glad you are. Here's another chapter!**

* * *

**

**November 2, 2005**

Dean had been right about the doggy senses. He knew something was coming, could feel it in the air. He could remember that feeling, hot and oppressive like a fire, from his youth. Even if he wasn't exactly sure what had killed his mother all those years before, he knew that it was in Palo Alto, and that scared him.

As soon as Sam had walked through the door, Dean was at his feet, jumping around and letting out little barks of warning. Sammy, apparently didn't get it. "You got to go out, boy?"

Dean sat down at stared at him, flicking his tail back and forth in annoyance. "No? Well, what, then?"

Fortunately, the older man had been prepared for that. He'd had all morning to think about ways to let Sam know he was in danger, after all. He got up and bolted into the bedroom Sammy and Jess shared, little brother tagging close behind. He stopped in front of the shelf that housed the picture of their parents standing in front of the house in Lawrence and looked back up at Sam.

"Mom and dad?" Sammy asked, taking the picture from its place, "what about them?" Barking once, Dean ran from the room and into the kitchen, where he scratched at the cabinet under the sink. Sam pushed him out of the way and opened the door, revealing bottles of cleaning solutions and a small fire extinguisher. "Mom and dad," he repeated slowly, "and a fire extinguisher." He looked back at Dean. "Are trying to say what I think you're trying to say?"

If Dean had been able to roll his eyes, he would have. A full-ride to Stanford, and that was all Sammy could come up with? Pathetic. "You think it's back? The thing that killed mom?" Dean nodded. "What are we gonna do?"

As much as he hated to do it, Dean put the top of his head against the back of his brother's leg and started pushing the younger man toward the door. "You want me to leave?" Sam asked. He was on a roll. "No. Not without you and Jess." Dean stopped pushing long enough to give him a 'duh' look.

"Where are we gonna go?" Sammy questioned as he stepped away from his brother and started shoving his and his girlfriend's belongings into a small duffle bag, "how long should we stay gone?" Dean just shook his head, unsure of how to answer. Who knew how long the thing would stick around?

"Maybe only a couple of days," Sam said, thinking aloud, "yeah, and then we can come back. If you can sense it, you can tell me if it's safe." He nodded, liking the plan. "It's decided, then. We'll head out as soon as Jess gets back.

And that was that.


	3. Chapter 3

Getting close to the end, but I guarantee you guys will like the next two chapters. Thanks for all the great reviews!**

* * *

**

**March 15, 2006**

Since alerting Sam to the demonic presence in the area in November, Dean's treatment around the apartment had improved greatly. Sam had actually let him sleep on his bed, the one he shared with Jess. Of course, there were times when the door was closed in the dog's face with an apologetic, yet smarmy, look.

Tonight was looking to be one of those nights. Sam and his girlfriend were eating spaghetti by candlelight and trying their hardest to ignore the crunching noises that their treasured pet made as he gnawed at a bone.

Sammy kept throwing his brother weird looks, obviously bothered by how easily Dean had settled into his new lot in life. Dean really couldn't blame him. It had taken some getting used to at first, eating off the floor and having to ask to do his business. But as time went on, he really started to appreciate the turn his life had taken.

For the first time since his mother's death, Dean was shouldered with virtually no responsibility. He had food every day, a roof over his head, people who cared about him, and he could do whatever he wanted as long as no one was around. He had family and freedom, and he was happy.

So, he chewed on a bone, determined to ground it into little pieces before his brother finished with dinner, and watched the happy couple eat. Sammy seemed nervous about something, but he was always nervous nowadays, what with exams and jobs and scholarships.

Sam stood up, apparently to start cleaning the table, but he didn't grab his plate. Instead, he rummaged in his pocket and got down on one knee, looking up at Jess with big eyes. Dean stopped his chewing and paid attention.

Sam gulped, his heart pounding, and opened up the little box he'd been hiding in his pocket all day. "Jessica Moore," he said, smiling as her eyes filled up with tears, "will you marry me?"

Dean sat up, the bone he'd been working on for most of the night forgotten as he waited for a response. He knew how invested Sam was in the blonde, how much he loved her and needed her, knew that she represented normal and safe. If she broke his little brother's heart, he might just have to go Cujo on her pretty ass.

Contracting rabies and trapping her in a hot car wasn't necessary, though, as she began to nod. Smiling brightly, Sammy slid the ring onto her finger. Jess stared at him, sniffled, looked at the ring on her finger, and then made that noise that Dean was pretty sure only he could hear.

Sam responded to that by standing up, taking her in his arms, and swinging her around. Dean couldn't help but smile. He was so glad he'd stayed, so glad that he could witness this, even if it was all in black and white.

"What do you say," he heard Sam whisper, "that we leave the dishes for tomorrow, huh?"

Jess looked up at him and giggled. "I'd say that's a great idea, Mr. Winchester."

"Then off we go," Sam grinned, "_Mrs. _Winchester." He took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom, shooting Dean that same weird look that he reserved for nights like that. Still grinning, the dog laid down on his bed, getting back to work on his bone in a weak attempt to drown out the noise coming from the other room.

o0o0o0o0o

Judging by the way the moon threw shadows across the walls, Dean guessed that it was a little past midnight. At first, he wasn't sure what had roused him from a deep slumber, but as he rolled over to try and drift off again, he heard it. Soft scuffling sounds outside the window.

He was on his feet immediately, staring at the window and growling, hackles raised, teeth bared, looking every bit like the very imposing German Shepherd he was. The lock on the window clicked back and it slid up, allowing entrance to a shadowy figure.

Still growling, he snapped once, hoping to get the attention of whoever- or _what_ever- was breaking in. The figure turned and stared at him, as if appraising him, trying to decide whether or not he was a threat.

"That witch really did a number on you, didn't she son?"

Dean stopped, staring up at the figure, dumb-founded. He cocked his head to one side, an action he'd gotten used to since showing up on Sam's doorstep.

His father chuckled. "Oh, Dean." He shook his head and knelt down on the floor, holding out a hand to the dog. "How'd I know you'd come here?"

A little embarrassed, Dean trotted up to his father and stared at him, unable to keep his tail still. John smiled. "Wow. How long have you been waiting?" He paused. "Stupid question, right? You've been waiting since you disappeared. I got the witch, by the way. Guess she was powerful enough that the spell's still intact, though. Doesn't matter. I found someone who can reverse it." He got to his feet and patted his leg. "Come on."

John turned back to the window and started to climb out, but Dean stayed rooted to his spot on the floor. His father looked back at him. "You coming?" Dean shook his head. John raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Having had a lot of time to prepare for his father's possible return, Dean was ready for the question. He wasted no time in jumping up on the couch, grabbing a picture off the table behind it, and proudly presenting it to his dad.

John looked at the photo. Sam sat on a lush green lawn with an old building behind him, his arm draped around a pretty blonde girl, a big German Shepherd laying across their legs. He looked back at Dean. "You're kidding."

"No, dad, he's not." Dean and his father both turned at the sound of Sam's voice. The youngest hunter stood in the doorway to the sitting room, watching them. "He wants to stay."

"You can't be serious, though," John marveled, looking from one son to the next as if they'd both lost their minds.

Sam shrugged. "Well, if he's changed his mind since June, he's free to go, but I don't think he has."

The older man looked down at the dog. "I found someone to change you back."

Whining, Dean walked slowly to stand beside his brother. "I'd say he's made his choice," Sam observed.

John nodded. "Fine. He wants to stay like this and give up the hunt, back down like a coward, that's his choice." He stared at Dean, disappointment in his eyes. "Call me if you ever change your mind." He climbed back out the window and into the night.

Dean whimpered and hung his head, sticking his tail between his legs. "Don't listen to him," Sam advised, "it's your life. Your choice." The dog didn't look convinced. Sammy sighed. "Come on," he said, turning around and heading back into his bedroom, "let's get some sleep." Dean followed him.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again for all the awesome reviews, guys. I can't believe we're already on the last chapter. Well, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)**

* * *

**

**May 2, 2006**

It was all his fault. If he'd just been able to hold it a little longer, bugged Jess to take him out instead of Sam, been more alert, sensed the things he's sensed last time, then it never would have happened.

Whining, Dean struggled out of his little brother's death-grip just enough to look over the younger man's shoulder at the smoldering remnants of the apartment building that had once been their home. Theirs and Jess's.

It was an all too familiar scene for the canine, the cops rushing around, asking questions, the firemen making sure everyone was safe and accounted for. And everyone was. All except one.

"It's not fair," Sam whispered into his neck, wrapping his arms tighter around Dean's body, holding on for dear life, determined to never lose another loved one if he could help it, "why me?"

Dean wished he had an answer for that, wished he had the answers for a lot of things. He wished he could wrap his own arms around his brother, say something to comfort him, just like when they'd been kids, but that was impossible. He didn't have arms, didn't have a voice, wasn't even human.

Sammy shook his head. "It's taken everything. It… it _killed_ her."

Dean looked up at him, hoping Sam picked up on what he was feeling and thinking. He'd lost her, too, lost the only thing that had gotten him into a happy, normal home and let him keep his family. He would have told his brother, but, again, it just couldn't happen.

One of the firemen walked up to where they sat on the grass across from the apartment complex and held out a charred photo. "We found this," he said softly as Sam took it from him, "only thing that wasn't completely destroyed."

Sam looked down at the picture as the man walked away. It was the one Dean had shown his father so many months before, the one of him and Sammy and Jessica. "Why me?" Sam asked again.

Dean stared at the picture, remembering the night his father had returned, how the older man had offered an escape from the mundane life of a house pet. He backed out of his brother's grip, nearly toppling Sam over.

"What?" Sammy asked, voice hurt. He'd needed the comfort, needed the proximity to something alive and well and caring.

Dean barked once, worming back under his brother's arm to sniff at the younger man's jeans pocket. Sam just stared at him, confusion replacing raw pain and fear. "What is it?" he asked, pushing Dean's nose away from his pants and reaching into the pocket. He pulled out his phone.

Dean backed up a couple of steps, barking again, tail wagging as the cell made its appearance. "My phone?" Sam asked, obviously confused, "what do you want my phone for?"

Spending nearly a year as a dog had vastly improved Dean's skill at charades. So much so that he didn't even really have to think about what he was doing. He balanced on his hind legs, something else he'd gotten better at that year, and stared at Sam expectantly.

Sammy looked from his brother to his phone and back again. It all clicked together in his head, the realization chilling him to the bone. Of course. Jess had been the one to take Dean in, had wanted him. Sam had said no. Now that Jess was gone, there was no reason to keep the dog around. Dean had to take care of himself again, and it would be so much easier if he could talk.

"You want me to call dad?" Dean nodded. Sam gulped down the panic that had suddenly overtaken him. "You want to change back?" Another nod. Because Sam had said no. Because Sam had run away and hadn't wanted him to stay. Because it was Dean's turn to leave. "All right."

o0o0o0o0o0o

Dad wasn't answering his phone, had actually left a message telling people to call some chick named Ellen in his absence. That wasn't the weird part, though. The weird part was the final sentence of the voicemail, the one that told Sam to check his PO box.

The name, address, and phone number of a young woman in Michigan had been there, all ready for him. He'd driven the distance with Dean on the seat next to him, head and one paw resting on his leg the whole way.

He stood in the woman's apartment, staring at the door she'd disappeared behind with his brother. John had dropped Dean's clothes off a few months before, obviously expecting him to tire of his domesticated life. He'd been right.

Sam watched the door, knowing that as soon as his brother walked through it, the older man would leave. After all, Sam had said no. It had been a long time ago, before he really needed a friend, but he's still said it. And Dean had a damn good memory.

So he watched the door and wondered where life was going to take him. He actually wanted to go back on the road, find the thing that had ripped his future wife from him, taken his home, taken his brother. He wanted to hunt.

The Impala had been parked in the woman's garage, awaiting its owner's return. Sammy was sure Dean would take it and run. Because Sam had said no.

The door opened slowly, creaking on old hinges, and Sam held his breath. He looked at his brother, all six-foot-one of him, taking everything in, committing every detail to memory in an instant. He didn't want to forget.

Dean walked into the room, unsteady on two legs after spending so much time on four, nearly tripping twice. Sam was sure he would walk past, would ignore him, would hate him forever for leaving and not wanting him.

Dean wrapped strong arms around him, falling into the embrace as his shaky legs betrayed him and spilled him forward. Sammy caught him, waiting for his brother to disengage the embrace and back away, leaving him behind, abandoning the abandoner. But he didn't. Dean straightened and held on tight.

"It's ok," the older man whispered, his words shaky and a little slurred, voice raspy and cracked, "it's gonna be all right. I'm gonna hunt that thing down and kill it if it's the last thing I do."

Realization hit Sam like a ton of brinks and he couldn't help but start to cry. Dean was never scared for himself, would never leave his brother. Of course. It had been for Sam, to give him someone to talk to who would talk back, who could wrap warm arms around him and try to comfort him when the nightmares got to be too much, let him keep his best friend. Even though he'd said no.

"I'm going with you," Sam whispered back, "we'll do it together."

Charred picture in his pocket, supporting his wobbly brother, Sam left the woman's house. He settled into a car he'd never thought he'd see again with a brother he'd been sure would leave him, offering to drive until the older man was a little steadier on his feet. He stuck the key in the ignition and turned it, driving off into the great unknown.

He couldn't suppress the laugh that bubbled up as Dean rolled down the window and stuck his head out, tongue waggling in the breeze.

* * *

The End.

So, any final comments before we part ways once again?


End file.
